Maggie would if I’d asked her; but Dolly will go her own way, and
that’s into the thick of everything, to see whatever there
is to be seen. 
She’s only four years old, but she’s ridiculously like the picture
of an ancient ancestress of ours
Who defended an old castle in Cornwall, against the French, for
hours and hours. 
Her husband was away, so she was in command, and all her household
obeyed her;
She made them strip the lead off the roofs, and they did, and she
boiled it down and gave it very hot indeed to the
French invader.[5]
Maggie would have let the French in; she doesn’t like me to say so,
but I know she would,—­you can get anything out of Maggie
by talking.

[Illustration:  The Spectators.]

She likes to hire a donkey, and then sham she’d rather not ride, for
fear of being too heavy; and to take Spike out for a run,
and then carry him to save him the trouble of walking. 
But she’s very good; she made all our cocked hats, and at the review
she and Dolly and Spike were the loyal crowd. 
Dick and Tom and Harry were the troops, and I was the General, and
Mother looked quite like a Queen at the window, and bowed. 
The donkeys made very good chargers on the whole, and especially mine;
Jem’s was the only one that gave trouble, and neither fair means nor
foul would keep him in line. 
Just when I’d dressed all their noses to a nice level (you can do
nothing with their ears), then back went Jem’s brute,
And Jem caught him a whack with the flat of his sword (a thing you
never see done on the Staff), and it rather spoilt the salute;
But the spirit of the troops was excellent, and we’d a feu de joie
with penny pistols (Jem’s donkey was the only one that shied),
and Dolly’s Major says that, all things considered, he never
saw a better March-Past;
And Mother was delighted with her first Birthday Review, and she is
none the worse for it, and says she only hopes that it won’t
be the last.

[Footnote 5:  Dame Elizabeth Treffry (temp. Henry VI.) defended Place House, Fowey, Cornwall, in the circumstances and with the vigorous measures described.  On his return her husband wisely “Embattled all the walls of the house, and in a manner made it a Castelle, and unto this day it is the glorie of the town building in Faweye.”—­Carew.  The beauties of Place Castle remain to this day also.]

DOLLY.

They call me Dolly, but I’m not a doll, and I’m not a baby, though
Baby is sometimes my name;
I behave beautifully at meals, and at church, and I can put on my
own boots, and can say a good deal of the Catechism, and ride
a donkey, and play at any boys’ game. 
I’ve ridden a donkey that kicks (at least I rode him as long as I was
on), and a donkey that rolls, and an old donkey that
goes lame. 
I mean to ride like a lady now, but that’s